


It's Never Enough

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Crossover, During Canon, Established Relationship, F/M, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-23
Updated: 2011-05-26
Packaged: 2018-09-06 07:23:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8740234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam and Dean have been hunting for a long time and are ready to get out of the business.  They meet a young woman who changes their lives forever.  Eventual Crossover with Torchwood, but it is very light and not confusing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

  
Author's notes: Bobby meets a mysterious girl at the library.  


* * *

She had been introduced to the Winchesters through a mutual friend. Calling Bobby Singer a friend was probably stretching it a bit, but she was incredibly lonely and considered his infrequent kindnesses to her to be gestures with far deeper implications than he had probably ever fathomed.

She firmly considered Bobby to be a very good friend and on her days off from working part time at the library she would sometimes walk down from her tiny studio apartment on seventh street downtown to the café she’d met him at.

Technically, they didn’t meet there. They had met at the library, of course. She merely recognized him there and waved shyly at him when he walked in. He did a double take and gave her a lopsided smile and briefly touched his grease stained cap. He didn’t stop to talk to her that first time, but the acknowledgement that he knew her was enough. It was more than enough and it kept her in high spirits until she saw him again at the library nearly two weeks later.

It’s routine now for her to stop in at the café and have a cup of tea. Before meeting Bobby she rarely indulged in eating out at any kind of restaurant, but this little café was one of those ‘hole in the wall’ type establishments with the original Formica countertops and powder blue vinyl seats. She liked the way it smelled like old grease and cigarette smoke, even though Sioux Falls had passed a law that prohibited indoor smoking years ago.

All these nuances seemed to stir memories, but nothing would ever surface. There was a block that was either mental or physical, but she couldn’t access much of her past. She didn’t like to think about it anymore. It frustrated her.

But Bobby fascinated her. And for several reasons. The first simply being he was kind to her. All day she greeted over a hundred different people and, if needed, helped them in the reference area to find what they were looking for. She considered herself lucky to receive any type of acknowledgement when the job was complete.

Bobby was different. He was patient, he was specific and he didn’t mind digging in with her to getting the bottom of the mystery. And boy, did he have some mysteries. Which brings us to reason number two as to why Bobby was to fascinating. He requested reference materials for the strangest things! Newspaper articles about missing or historical figures, occult literature, Christian studies with a focus on Catholicism… heck, she’s fairly certain he even reads Latin!

The kindnesses he gives her by being polite and the weird errands she does for him while on the clock are nothing compared to the conversations she overhears while he’s on the phone. Because Bobby is so polite to her, she’ll set him up in the quietest portion of the library possible. This is normally pretty easy to do since Bobby comes at odd hours. She’s also been known to stay late just so he can finish some work.

He talks to ‘Sam’ or ‘Dean’. Regular names, she supposes and she would even venture to guess they are probably regular guys. That is until she overheard Bobby talking with them about demons.

She wasn’t purposely eves dropping the first time she overheard him talking about possession. She just happened to be walking returning a bunch of old microfiche back into the main reference area when she heard him yelling.

“Dammit, Dean, ya idjit! I told you to keep those devil’s traps simple. The more elaborate you make them, the easier it is to screw up and lose the whole lot. Now, how many are on the loose?”

There was a dramatic pause where she held her breath and cocked her head.

“Well, if the entire state of Connecticut becomes possessed by lower class demons because you guys were circle jerking over who got to paint what, where… I’ll let the entire hunting community know who pitches and who catches!”

He had hung up and realizing she was about to be discovered, she made a little bit of racket and continued down the hall. She thought she was being stealthy. It all seemed natural, but looking back… it probably wasn’t.

After that incident, she noticed him less at the library and more at the café. While sitting and sipping tea one rainy afternoon, she contemplated opening the book she brought with her or returning back to her tiny little apartment. Things were getting bad where she lived. The landlord was selling the building and forcing all the tenants to move out. She had about a month to find someplace she could afford to live. Her prospects were grim. Scraping the cash together to live in this apartment took her months. Before that she lived in an abandoned car down by the industrial district.

It was okay during the summertime. Being in her early twenties (she guessed) she could get away with squeezing into the backseat. Sneaking into the Y was pretty easy when she needed to take a shower, but winter was coming. She didn’t think she could do another winter living on the street. A part time job at the library paid just enough for her studio apartment and her basic needs, but this landlord didn’t ask for her social security number or a background check. What are the odds she’ll be able to get away with that again?

The only reason they were letting her stay on at the library is because she was using the social security number of an elderly person she swiped back in Missouri. She had helped Mrs. Filn outside of a restaurant in Branson. Mrs Filn was eighty and had dropped her purse coming in the front steps. The contents went everywhere. She did the best she could to help pick everything up, but pocketed Mrs. Filn’s social security card.

The guilt she felt was overwhelming, but realized it was something that was holding her back. She wasn’t going to let anything hold her back anymore.

She placed her tea down and glanced up when someone new walked in. Bobby Singer seemed to be looking for someone. Intrigued by this development she started glancing around as well. Who could he be looking for? Finally his eyes seemed to settle on her. A look of grim determination seemed to come over him. She gave him a slight smile and a short little wave.

Clearing her throat she remembered a little goal she set for herself the next time she saw Bobby outside of the library. The goal to make a new friend. Specifically, friends with Bobby. It all begins with conversation.

“Hi, Mr. Singer. Are you looking for someone?”

Bobby looked a little stunned by her voice for a moment, but then sat down across from her in the little booth.

“As a matter of fact I am. I was looking for you.”

She was shocked, but pleased. Trying to school her expression to a somewhat acceptable one she replied, “Well, here I am. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Bobby took off his hat and held it in his hands and looked down at the table. He had a very serious expression and instantly she was on guard.

“Marnie. Can I call you Marnie?”

She nodded.

“Marnie, do you remember your past? Do you have memories?”

Her smile froze on her face. Her entire body seemed to freeze. Slowly she looked down and picked up her tea. Time for some acting.

“Sure, of course. Why do you ask?”

Bobby looked skeptical, “I ask because I think that you probably don’t remember anything that happened further back than about a year ago.”

Her hand was visibly shaking so she put her tea back down. Smoothing her hair she lifted her hand back and started to get up.

“I’m sorry, Bobby. I just realized I have someplace I need to be. I’ll catch you next time.”

She moved to leave, but he grabbed her wrist.

“I think I know who you are and if you’ll give me a chance to explain why and how, you’ll see that I’m here to help you.”

He was lying. He had to be lying. No one knew who she was. More importantly she needed to make sure he didn’t know what she was. If he was someone who researched and helped people go after demons, what would they do to her? It was time to move on. Sioux Falls was fun while it lasted.

“Bobby, no one knows who I am, least of all me.” She whispered. “Please, let me go.”

Bobby held on to her for a few more beats and stared into her eyes. She stared back and straightened her spine. This was not the time to give in. Her need for human contact, for friendship was an ever present throb near the back of her chest, but she resisted. Finally, he released his grip.

“Where will you go?”

“Away from here as fast as I can.”

She walked briskly towards the door only to find it blocked by two young men coming in. They looked at her and smiled with familiarity.

“Bobby! Introduce us to your friend.”

Marnie looked back at Bobby and felt her face flush. She had been set up. These were friends of Bobby’s.

“Kay, meet the Winchester brothers, Sam… Dean.” He took a sip of Marnie’s tea. “Kay, meet the idjits I like to call the sons I never had.”

“Pleased to meet you, Kay.” The one with dark hair and eyes said, holding his hand out.

Her mind was wild with thoughts, most of them saying, “Run! Run! Run!” But even she knew she was trapped both with cunning and force.

“My name is Marnie.”

Her eyes darted around the diner to look for an alternate exit. The other man, the one with lighter hair noticed her actions and moved to box her in on the other side. Frustrated, she turned around and practically stomped back to the booth to sit across from Bobby.

“No.” He said, “That’s what I want to talk to you about. Your name isn’t Marnie and you know it.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a finger, “What you don’t know is that your name is Kay. Kay Svent.”

She stared at him and then down at the table. She focused on just trying to regulate her breathing. He was right, but she didn’t know why. Suddenly all the sounds in the diner were incredibly loud. The Winchesters making her and Bobby move over to accommodate them in the booth. The clanking of silverware on dishes. The sipping of the sludge the staff called coffee. Surreptitiously she attempted to cover her ears but only managed to loose her grip on reality and slip into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: The trip to Bobby's.  


* * *

She was lying down in the backseat of a moving vehicle. Immediately she panicked and nearly bolted upright, but forced herself to breathe steadily and remain lying still with her eyes closed. She needed to assess the situation.

The seat was leather and she was terribly hot. Being wrapped up in a blanket was probably the chief cause.

“I don’t really think this is going to amount to much.” One of them said in a slightly disdainful tone and she immediately remembered what happened before she blacked out.

Bobby.

The restaurant.

She had been exposed. Or at least, her cover had been blown. Too bad there wasn’t really anything underneath it. Both her heart and her gut clenched simultaneously at the thought of hitting the road again in search for another place to start over. She had really like Sioux Falls. She had also liked the idea of making a permanent life here.

One of her pipe dreams had been to attend the community college. She like writing and had even put a few stories down in her notebook. Walking past a downtown kiosk she had even went so far as to take a brochure with enrollment information. Smiling she had kept it unread in her book bag the entire day until her shift at the library was done. Once she had gotten home, she made herself some Ramen noodles and read the short tri-folded missive with great pleasure.

Until reality slapped her in the face.

She had no high school diploma.

She had no ACT or SAT scores.

She had nothing to prove who she was in any form or fashion. It was all a house of cards waiting to fall.

That night was scary because she became incredibly angry. Her sorrow had spiraled into self loathing which brought out everything she had been keeping tamped down for so long. She had been hiding her face in a pillow and screaming and crying into it in an attempt to abate her anger, but it was to no avail. She looked up and noticed everything in the room, including her, was floating at least two feet off the ground.

Although she was startled, she wasn’t surprised. It had happened before when she was hitchhiking from Missouri to Sioux Falls. The trucker had seemed perfectly nice and normal at first. He was an older guy in his late fifties, if she had to guess. Even had pictures of his grandkids pinned around the vinyl interior of his rig.

She had dozed off, head leaning against the passenger window, completely exhausted from walking thirteen miles before he picked her up. She woke when he pulled into a deserted rest area and told her to either suck his dick or get out of the truck.

She chose to walk.

He disagreed with her choice and tried to forcefully keep her in the truck.

At first she didn’t understand what was happening. She started screaming. When her screams broke out all the cab windows and made all the orifices in the man’s head bleed freely, she began to realize it was her doing.

Angry, embarrassed and covered in blood, she ran from him down the interstate. She turned around once and when she looked at the truck’s headlights, they instantly exploded into sprays of glittering glass.

The rush of adrenaline forced a feeling of satisfaction through her. She decided she wouldn’t try for any more rides that night.

“She deserves to know what’s going on.” That was the dark haired one. She was in the Winchester brothers’ car.

“And I know you’re awake, Kay.” Her heart stuttered and she frowned. Opening her eyes she rolled and slowly sat up. As dignified as she could possibly manage she unwrapped herself from the blanket, smoothed her hair and rubbed her eyes.

“This is probably considered kidnapping.” She stared at both of them in turn then crossed her arms and looked out the window. None of the scenery was recognizable.

“Where are we going? What happened to Bobby?”

The other brother, Dean, she thinks, is driving and he seems to grip the wheel tighter for a second. “Sam, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Sam, your brother is right. You need to take me back to the diner, right now!” She leaned forward and tried to make eye contact with either of them, but they both avoid her with intent.

“It’s too late anyway, we’re here.” Sam says this as they slow to take a right turn into something called ‘Singer’s Salvage.’ Immediately she adds the total and comes to the conclusion that this is Bobby’s place and that he runs a salvage yard. Against her power a small smile graces her face. How wonderfully perfect. Bobby would be a junkyard type of guy, wouldn’t he?

She bites her lip and glances around to get a good view of the place. In the process she notices Dean staring at her in the rear view mirror with a puzzled look. Instantly feeling self conscious, she shuts down and hides her mouth with her hand.

He parks near a slew of other classic cars in various states of disrepair and instantly a dog starts barking. The both open their doors and climb out. The dark haired one pulls his seat forward and stands expectantly by his door, waiting for her to exit. She crosses her arms and sits back. Why make this easy for them? To her, this is a hostage situation.

After about twenty seconds he leans down, “Seriously. We just want to talk.”

“Why the fuck did you wait until I passed out to bring me home then? This is FUCKED UP!” Her anger is like a fist in her gut and it hits her out of nowhere. Suddenly she frightened, embarrassed and angry at the same time.

Worried about the glass in the car and the surprised look on Mr. Hair’s face, she scrambles out and starts to walk toward the road.

Dean calmly jogs to catch up to her, “Honestly, I think this is a pipe dream as well, but the guys really want to talk to you. Hell, those crazies even think they can help you. So if you…” He casually lays a hand on her arm and sadly, she goes ballistic.

Bearing down on him with merely a look and a wave of her hand, Dean is thrown thirty feet onto the roof of a rusty old Chevelle.

“DEAN!” Mr. Hair bellows and runs toward him. Feeling herself shake and tears streaming down her face, she turns herself back toward the road.

“I’m sorry.” The first time comes out as a whisper. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why it happens. You need to stay away from me. I’m not good. I’m bad.” Her breath hitched, “It’s bad.”

Looking back one more time with blurry eyes she sees Dean sitting up with the aid of his brother. Good, good. That’s good. She didn’t kill anyone this time. That’s not so bad then. Just a few more feet to the road then she can really get out of this town forever.

Bobby.

Bobby is standing there with a shotgun, a cross, and a bottle of water. Momentarily she is so utterly confused that she simply stands still.

“Kay.” Bobby says in a no nonsense tone. The same one he used to ask for the fourteenth century erotic art collection last week. “Kay, let’s go inside and have some tea. I’d like to talk to you for a while.”

“Bobby!” She hears footsteps coming up behind her at a rapid pace and does the only thing she can think of to buy her time. Throwing her arm out behind her, she suspends Mr. Hair in place about two feet off the ground.

Breath shaky and starting to feel out of control, she feels her energy building. “Guys. I’m really sorry, but I just want to leave right now.”

Suddenly Sam tells her it’s ok, it’s normally to be afraid. This is what he felt like when he started to exhibit signs of powers like these.

Shocked she looks at Mr. Hair, who is Sam. Sam! Talking to her in her head. He gives her a small smile and asks her to please put him down. He’s a little uncomfortable floating around like a dandelion seed.

Letting out a bark of laughter she drops him down, a little abruptly and covers her face with her hands. The anger and frustration have left and now the aftermath of shakes and sorrow are coursing through her. Sitting down on the gravel driveway she puts her face in her knees and starts to rock back and forth.

The hand that lands on her shoulder is Sam’s. “It’s going to be okay, you know. If I can handle dealing with this type of stuff, someone like you most certainly can as well.”

Afraid to look up she shakes her head a little and simply asks, “Is Dean okay?”

There are more footsteps in the gravel and one pair might be slightly slower than the next.

“Is she actually asking if I’m okay? Really? I’ve totally had worse, believe me, sister. If you really wanted to hurt me you should have…”

“Dean!” Sam cuts him off.

“What? I’m just sayin’.” There’s a creak of leather and a groan. “For someone so small, cute and blonde, she’s got someone decent skills. Although, she did somehow manage to land me on my bad shoulder. Damn.”

“Alright boys, give the lady time to compose herself. We’ll be right in.” Bobby steps back as she looks up and wipes her face with her shirt. She’s now completely wet, filthy, sweaty, smelly and tired.

Walking toward the old farmhouse together, she decides to put one part of the day’s events out of her mind for good. “Bobby, back there, when you came out with the shotgun… would you have shot me?”

There is hardly a pause or thought to his answer, “Yes. I know what folks like you are capable of and it is the only way to slow you down. Would it have killed you? No. Hurt you temporarily? Yes.”

They’ve reached the porch steps and he holds the door open for her to go in. “Why don’t you go up to the bathroom and clean up a bit before we start talking. The boys and I will make something to eat.” She simply nods and makes her way through the door.

Bobby’s house is an antiquarian’s dream. She instantly loves it.


End file.
